Kyteline

The study had bookshelves built into the walls, full of company ledgers and history books. It had a hardwood floor partially covered by a fraying coral-colored rug. A large oak desk faced two black plush chairs. In the chairs sat two older people, the kind that carry themselves with dignity and power. There was a man with a brown and gray marbled beard, and a woman with pixie-cut white hair.

Kimber was sitting on a wooden chair borrowed from the kitchen. She was at the right hand of the desk where her Pa sat covered with thick blankets. His eyes were sunken and his skin had a bluish tinge to it. Kimber tried not to look at him too often. She was only there to listen in, to observe and understand her Pa's numerous duties as council member and Master of Commerce.

It wasn't how Kimber imagined sickness would be. Some days he would be bedridden. Other days, he would be having meetings with fellow council members or South Orien Commerce Company staff. She worried about him, that he was overworking himself. Kimber tried to convince him to let her deal with some of the meetings so that he could rest. He would not allow it, kept saying she wasn't ready. The only reason Kimber was itching to inherit his duties was that she wanted her Pa out of the high-stress environment that was clearly taking a physical toll on him. She worried he was going to work himself to death.

With her hands folded in her lap, Kimber stared straight ahead at a thick Creature Encyclopedia as her Pa conducted council business.

“With the Farley heir dead, the family has no chance of staying on the council unless they appoint a bastard,” the white haired woman said in a low voice.

“They won't do that. They're too arrogant,” Kimber's Pa said.

“The ruling families are dwindling,” the man with the beard said. “We started with twelve. Now we are down to seven and have to lose another because of arrogance?”

“We lost the others because they were getting too comfortable in their positions. How is arrogance any worse than that?” her Pa said.

“It is contagious,” the woman said. “We need to watch the others and make sure they don't get any ideas.”

Kimber perked up. Things were getting tense. The man with the beard turned to the woman. “What are you suggesting?”

“Keep them powerless. Make them believe the decisions we make are their ideas,” she said.

“That will be easy enough. We would have to be quick on our feet,” her Pa said in agreement.

“If the others get wind of this,” the other man said, disgruntled. The woman waved him off.

Kimber fought to keep her face straight. She did not want to be part of this world, where everyone had a dagger poised behind their back.

The woman was Rexa LaUdan, council seat of the third ruling family. The man was Ultan LaVern, council seat of the second ruling family. Kimber's Pa was Caro LaStell, council seat of the first ruling family. The three of them represented most of the laws that kept the city of Kyteline in order. The other four ruling families had less influence in the council. Any family could move up in the council hierarchy, but it was dangerous to challenge a higher family. The council member's families were HighFolk, the highest authority in Kyteline other than the Shepard himself. The Shepard commanded the people directly, so he had the most immediate authority, but the council controlled the Shepard. They were the ones that voted in each Shepard.

Kimber had made sure to do some research when her Pa fell ill. She knew it would come down to her taking over once he died.

There was a book on his shelf that outlined old laws previous council members had made. One stated that a city-wide vote could be made to impeach council members. Kimber thought it a good way to keep a balance of power between the Shepard, the people and the HighFolk. Part of her wondered why the people had not already taken action.

That law was on the forefront of her mind as she listened to some of the most powerful and influential people make a vow to keep themselves in absolute control. She knew her Pa was a bold man, but she didn't think he was so deceitful.

“We all know how Gora feels about NOVA,” Rexa continued in a softer voice.

Kimber's curiosity piqued. NOVA was a shadow, a name spoken with fervor, be it in adoration or disgust. No one had ever met her in person. She was a street artist that used Illusion to embed pictures into the walls of buildings. The pictures usually targeted HighFolk and Ordinaries, people without Illusion.

It was a strange magic, affecting the mind rather than the body. Kimber had heard stories. Terrifying stories of people who had seen their worst nightmares at the hands of Illusionists. People that had their memories altered. Ordinaries feared Illusionists, and it didn't help that Illusionists were the minority in Kyteline. They were treated like dogs.

“There is nothing we can do about NOVA until-” Ultan began.

“That's not what this is about, Ultan,” her Pa said. She caught him throwing a glance in her direction. “Rexa, please. Stop beating around the bush.”

“We need to change his mind, or get him off the council,” Rexa said. Kimber breathed in deeply, curling her knuckles while the woman spoke.

“I can change his mind,” Ultan said. Kimber's Pa nodded curtly at him.

A knock rapped at the door.

“Yes?” her Pa called.

Sitka, head housekeeper, walked into the room. She bowed. “I apologize for interrupting sire, but I have been asked to bring Kimber to Madam LaStell.”

Kimber looked at her Pa, waiting for him to say she could leave with Sitka. He waved his hand, dismissing them from the study. Out in the dining room, Kimber stopped.

“I won't see Ma,” Kimber said.

“You really think your Ma wants to see you right now? She's still upset from yesterday.” Sitka held out her hand, in which sat a little blue pill. “I came to give you this.”

“What is it?” Kimber asked. She eyed it suspiciously.

“A pill your Ma told me to give you. She said nothing else, so I suggest you ask around a bit before you take it,” Sitka suggested.

Kimber smiled and took the pill from Sitka. She curled her fingers around it. Sitka stood there watching Kimber. One of her bushy eyebrows was raised. She was a tall woman with gangly legs and a head full of thick salt and pepper hair. She was pretty in a middle-aged housekeeper kind of way.

“You look like your Ma when you make that face,” Sitka said.

Kimber glared at her. “Say that again. I dare you.”

The older woman chuckled. “What will you do? Fire me?”

“No,” Kimber said with a devious grin. “But I would order you to bring me a giant apple pie. Slathered with whipped cream, of course.”

“That's the best you can think of?” Sitka said.

“What can I say?” Kimber shrugged. “I'm hungry.”

“Speaking of hungry, your Ma left you in charge of figuring out the food for the party.”

“Does she do anything around here?” Kimber said. Sitka looked down on her and she shrugged, not feeling guilty at all. Whenever her Ma had a fit, everything was left in Kimber's hands.

“I like ham and bread,” Kimber said over her shoulder as she walked away. “But get whatever else you want. I really don't care.”

Kimber's Ma had planned a party to take place in a fortnight. The party would be a lavish one, to welcome a rich silk merchant from Toro, a city in Northern Orien. It was not a coincidence that it would also be on Kimber's birthday. She made her way up the grand marble stairs to her bedroom. She flung open the curtains on the opposite side of the room. The curtains hid a thin window seat covered with maroon silk and books open on their spines. To the side of the window stood the tall cage that belonged to Braegyn, Kimber's hybrid.

Kimber had a book on the history of hybrids. It was fascinating, as were most histories that Kimber read about. History was Kimber's favorite subject. Whenever her tutor, Averin, was over, Kimber pestered him to do another history lesson. He preferred to focus on the arts, like piano and dancing. He was of the opinion that ladies should be seen and not heard, and her Pa used to agree wholeheartedly, that is, until he fell ill. Her Ma could care less about what she did with her life. With her Pa ill and her Ma absent, Kimber chose to spend her free time reading about the history of humans, elves and hybrids.

There hadn't been a purebred bird seen for more than two hundred years. Purebred dragons were also long extinct. Rumor was, the birds and the dragons mated to try and save their species, which only succeeded in creating the Hybrids. Half-bird, half-dragon creatures that grew to be a few feet long. Some of the older people in Kyteline could remember a time when the Hybrids each had a unique name. Kimber's Grandmother used to tell her Fables of the Many Bellied SparrowDragon, Seven Claw HawkDragon, and Feather Plucked ParrotDragon. Around 60 years ago, a law was passed to change the name to hybrids, a term to encompass all of the half-bird, half-dragon creatures.

Kimber's would have been called a PeacockDragon. The term hybrid made it less personal, so Kimber named him Braegyn and called him that ever since. Braegyn was a good two feet long and still growing. He had a thin dark blue body with a green underbelly. His beak was dark green, and from the top of his head grew two sharp black horns that curved back towards his wings. There was a strip of green feathers lining the top of his head down to his wings, which splayed out with magnificent green, purple and blue peacock feathers. His tail was long and ended with a tuft of green feathers.

Kimber was careful when stroking him. Peacocks and Dragons had a history of being proud creatures. Having them both in one body was almost unbearable. Once, Kimber had accidentally plucked a few feathers from his back. Braegyn had proven his point by flying up to the rafters of her room and not coming down for a week.

She stroked him gently as she opened the cage and let him walk up her arm. She was wearing a long-sleeved brown dress, so his claws didn't hurt too bad. She needed a new shoulder pad for him to climb on her without it hurting. He came to rest curled around her neck. She could feel a slight purr coming from deep within his belly. Kimber sat with him on the window seat. Below her room was the study. She could just barely hear her Pa speaking, but not well enough to make out his words.

Leaning against the window, she twirled the blue pill between her fingers, wondering what it was for. The sun was low in the sky, casting a dark orange veil over the sprawling city. A slight breeze was rustling the curtains. She fell asleep without meaning to, waking up only when her Pa's voice stopped drifting out of his study. Kimber jumped to her feet and took the stairs two at a time. She intercepted her Pa on his way out of the study. Ultan and Rexa were gone. He appeared withered.

“Not now Kimber,” he said. He tried to wave her away.

“What is this?” Kimber asked, holding the pill up for him to see. “Sitka says Ma wants me to take it, but I don't trust it.”

“Say what you mean,” he said.

“I don't trust Ma,” Kimber said. She was not afraid to bad mouth her Ma around him, because he had most of the same feelings towards her as Kimber did.

He leaned against the door frame, breathing heavily. Kimber did not budge. “She means well.”

“If you say so,” Kimber shrugged. “Why the pill? What is it for?”

“Your nightmares,” he said. He rubbed his eyes, ready for a much deserved full night of rest.

Kimber's face screwed up in a knot. “Nightmares?”

“We hear you scream at night,” He nodded to the pill. “That will help them go away.”

“I don't have nightmares,” Kimber said. Her feet seemed planted to the hardwood floor.

“There is no way for you to know that. I'm going by what I hear every night,” he said.

“You're going by what Ma says,” Kimber said.

He pushed past her weakly. She let him pass. “She is behind everything you say to me. She has a hold on you that you aren't willing to fight.”

“She is my wife,” he said.

“I'm not blind, Pa,” Kimber said. “You hate each other. Why are you standing up for that autocrat?”

He turned back to Kimber with steel in his eyes. She backed away from him on instinct. She had seen him that way only a few times, furious to the point of bursting. Kimber didn't think him capable of that kind of anger with how ill he was, but there he was, staring her in the face. She curled into herself, scared he might hit her.

“You will hold your tongue. She is your mother and you will respect her. Understand?” he said. Kimber nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He left, and she watched him through the door trudging up the stairs. Any other night, she would have helped him to bed.

Kimber didn't notice Sitka come up beside her. She startled when Sitka took her hands and held them. “You're shaking.”

“Oh,” Kimber said. She pulled her hands away from Sitka. “Why? He has never done that before.”

“Pain changes people, dear,” Sitka said. “Don't take it to heart. He will be back to normal tomorrow. Now scoot along to bed.”